Jack Frost and the Ice Queen
by the ramblin rose
Summary: Caryl AU. Oneshot. Sometimes a winter romance doesn't go exactly according to plan. Carol/Daryl


**AN: So this was from a Tumblr prompt. I hope I did it justice!**

 **I own nothing from the Walking Dead.**

 **I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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Carol paced back and forth on the bank. She'd already been "yapping," as Daryl had called it, for at least ten minutes to try to talk him out of doing stupid things. Frankly, she didn't feel like he should tell her that she shouldn't "yap" when the so-called negative action that she was calling out was directly related to his safety. What she felt, and what she'd let him know as clearly as possible, was that she didn't think he should threaten to do things that were so stupid that she'd be required to "yap" at him.

It was their first trip away together. It was the first time that, together, they'd packed far too much stuff into the car and they'd driven to a location where they could simply be alone.

Alone.

Sophia was staying with Andrea for the weekend. There would be no excuses as to why they couldn't do anything because there was the chance that the girl might walk in on them. There would be no excuse that they couldn't even hint to anything because Carol didn't think that Sophia was ready for the "talk" that might end up having to come out of everything if she were to catch them doing something.

Alone.

Andrea was occupied and wouldn't be getting into trouble with some random guy or another—always seeming to find the worst possible specimens of males to date, not that Carol had much room to talk after her previous marriage. There would be no middle of the night phone calls. No surprise visits with some kind of crisis. No morning after "do you think he'll call me?" messages. Andrea would be too busy being "Aunt Andrea" for the weekend. And, besides that, cell phone use was less than perfect up here and everything had to be saved up for when Carol called to check in—and that was for Sophia.

Alone.

Merle was on his own. He had enough whisky and frozen pizza to keep himself entertained for days on end. He knew that if he got himself locked up, he was going to have to hang out in a jail cell for the weekend unless he could find someone else to bail him out. Daryl wasn't going to be available to rush to his rescue and not even Carol could be contacted as a last resort to serve as his get out of jail free card. If he landed himself there, there was where he'd have to stay until they got back.

This weekend they were just going to be alone. It was the first time for them to do something like this and it had been exciting and nerve wracking all at once. Their relationship had moved slowly and most of that was owing to the fact that, or at least it seemed this way, everywhere they turned there was someone blocking them from taking even another step forward.

Unbeknownst to Daryl, Carol had packed something really nice for the trip—something really nice for him. The tags were still on it and she'd put it in her bag and taken it out three times because she was almost afraid to wear it. She'd made huge plans, at least in her mind, about how they'd spend this whole weekend curled up by the fire in the cabin that they were renting.

She'd made huge plans about how it was going to be the first time that they made love—and even though she was pretty sure she wasn't any good at any it, it was going to be magical and perfect and everything she hoped it might be.

Their days, she thought, might be spent playing in the snow. Maybe they'd build a snowman together. Maybe they'd even build a little snow family to greet them. Perhaps they'd walk into the town, not very far away, and do some light shopping. Then, needing to thaw from the cold of the climate they weren't quite accustomed to, they'd come back to the cabin and think of ways to keep themselves warm. The fire, after all, might not even be necessary, even if it was a welcomed addition.

And so far it was so good.

Last night they'd gotten to the cabin in the dark hours when it could barely even be called night anymore. For all intents and purposes, it was early morning. They'd gotten lost three times searching for the place and by the time they'd found it there was just enough energy between them to get the suitcases inside, allow Carol to wake Andrea long enough to make sure all was well with Sophia, and let them get sheets on the bed so that they had a proper place to sleep.

Sleep was all they'd done. After all, Carol didn't want to rush things and she wanted their first time together to be special. She didn't want it being nothing more than a rushed coming together that neither had enjoyed because they were exhausted.

This morning she'd made breakfast out of the food that they'd brought packed in a cooler and then they'd decided to take a walk and survey the wonderful winter wonderland that was all around them. Though she didn't need that much help, Carol had let Daryl "help" her walk through the snow—pretending for his benefit that more than once his arms had been all that kept her from slipping and falling. They'd had a small snowball fight for the novelty of it, and had made their way down to the pond that they'd been told they'd find at the foot of the property.

That was where the trouble started.

They knew the pond was frozen, but they didn't know how frozen it might be. Carol knew enough about frozen water to know that, if they weren't careful, they could simply plummet through the ice. Maybe they'd be sucked under it. Maybe they'd drown. And if they didn't drown? Surely someone might die from hypothermia. She'd come on this trip to have a nice, romantic weekend. She hadn't come on this trip to die or to watch Daryl die because she was useless in a situation that they never really needed to be in. Daryl, however, seemed to think that the frozen water was an incredible novelty. If they had skates, he'd insisted, they could learn to ice skate together. They didn't have skates, though, so he'd decided they could settle for simply strolling around on the ice and cracking incredibly horrible jokes about their newfound ability to walk on water.

Carol hadn't thought this would be a good plan at all, and she'd made it known more than once. As a result, Daryl was now making his way toward the middle of the pond while Carol paced on the shore, still on firm ground, and begged him to come back.

Well, in the beginning she'd begged. Now she was threatening with some desperation.

"Daryl! You're scaring me!" She yelled at him. He laughed and shot something back at her about her yapping. "If you don't come back right now—I'm—I'm going home!"

"You wouldn't even drive to the store on your own," Daryl said. "Not in my truck and not in this snow. Come on. It's fine. It'll hold me, it'll hold you. Get'cha ass out here."

"I'm not watching this!" Carol yelled back. "I'm not watching it happen. I'm going back to the cabin!"

Daryl laughed.

"You gonna cry and have a fit because I'm standing on some ice?" Daryl teased.

He didn't understand. He just didn't understand. He didn't realize that it terrified her because all she had was horrible visions of what could happen. She had horrible visions of losing him, in an instant, because of something stupid. And to lose him?

They hadn't been together that long, but the time that they'd been together had been perfect. He'd come, seemingly out of nowhere, at a time when she needed him the most and didn't even realize that she needed him. Honestly, she hadn't even realized that she'd wanted him. Her life with Ed had made her sure that she didn't want anyone. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to raise her daughter in peace—just the sound of the word was music to her ears—and then she simply wanted to be alone for the rest of her life while she watched the wonderful things that Sophia did with her life. She hoped, after all, that having Ed out the picture would give them both a chance to heal and that Sophia would grow into a wonderful young woman who didn't fear men—she just knew how to tell the kind of men that needed to be avoided.

So when Daryl had shown up, almost appearing out of thin air, Carol hadn't given him the time of day. At least, she hadn't at first. That, maybe, was what had intrigued him because he'd kept coming back. It was little things at first. He started having lunch every day at the same place she did. He started moving his table closer to hers. Finally, he asked to join her. After all, they were both alone and there was no need taking up two tables when a server could get more tips. And then it was the first invitation out to dinner—a nice place—and Sophia could come along if she wanted.

Without Carol even realizing it, she'd fallen for him. She'd fought it, but she couldn't win entirely. She couldn't keep him out. Slowly he'd made his way in. They'd only been officially "dating" for a few months, and they'd only shared a few quick and stolen kisses here and there, but Carol felt for him in a way that absolutely scared her—even if she couldn't quite bring herself to call it love.

The very last thing she wanted to do was see him do something stupid and get himself hurt or, worse yet, killed.

"Daryl, I'm already deciding that I'm not sleeping with you tonight," Carol said. "And if you don't—if you don't come back here right now? I'm not sleeping with you this whole weekend!"

Daryl stopped parading about on the ice and looked back toward her. Even from the short distance, she could see his lips curl, for just a moment, in the customary half grin that he had for almost all levels of amusement.

"You're not gonna sleep with me if I walk on the ice?" He responded.

Carol shook her head. Her face felt hot, despite the fact that it had felt almost numb moments before.

"Hell, I didn't know you was gonna sleep with me anyway," Daryl said.

"What'd you think we came up here for?" Carol responded, flustered on many levels, as she put her hands on her hips and regarded him while he stared back at her.

Daryl scratched the back of his neck, the smirk not entirely gone, and shrugged his shoulders.

"To play in the snow and get some quiet," Daryl said.

"What'd you think we were going to do with the quiet?" Carol responded back.

Daryl laughed.

"If I'da presumed we were gonna sleep together, you woulda been pissed off," he said. "Now—you're pissed because I didn't presume it!"

"I'm pissed because you're being stupid!" Carol spat back. "And I'm serious! If you don't come off the ice, right now? Nothing. And I mean—nothing!"

"Not too different than what I got right now," Daryl commented.

Carol turned, at that point, and gave up. She took her anger and her frustration and started back, following the tracks they'd made to get here, toward the cabin.

"It was a joke!" Daryl called behind her. "It was a joke! Don't do that! Look! I'm coming. Here I come! Just wait a damn minute..."

When Carol heard the loud crack, she froze in her spot. She didn't hear anything else. She'd gone, or so she felt, absolutely deaf for a moment. The crack was all that she needed to hear. It was the only sound that was necessary. She knew, in every fiber of her being, what it meant the second that it rang in her ears. She froze in place, paralyzed from the overwhelming fear, and then finally got her wits about her to turn around.

Like time had frozen for a moment, that was the first time she heard Daryl's voice again.

He was yelling at her, clawing at the ice, but he was definitely in the water. She ran toward him and hesitated a moment when she got to the ice. If he'd fallen through, somewhere toward the middle, it meant that the ice wasn't strong enough to hold him. It also meant that it was compromised now and would be even less likely to remain solid. She could fall through. If she did? They could both die. If she didn't, though, then she might be able to help him out and keep him from spending too long in the water.

She sucked in a breath, feeling her body quaking but trying to convince herself it was from the cold, and eased out onto the ice. She didn't want to fall, sure that the hard impact would crack it the rest of the way, so she went as quickly as she could while still being sure that the waddle motion she was using would keep her upright.

Daryl hadn't gotten sucked under the ice, but he couldn't get out. He was clawing at the ice, holding onto the edge, and she thought he already looked blue. Maybe there were even specks of ice in his hair—or maybe Carol was simply freaking out because every terrible thing that she'd imagined was coming true.

When she reached him, she grabbed his arm. He took her support and continued to claw at the ice with the other. There were no words. This wasn't the time for apologies or I-told-you-sos. Those would come later. Carol pulled at Daryl and he fought with her to get himself out of the hole. When he finally got onto the ice, he crawled forward and Carol backed away from the hole as quickly as she could—that would be the weakest point of the ice.

As soon as they were closer to the bank, Carol helped Daryl up. He was shaking violently and she took off her coat and wrapped it around him. It wouldn't offer much warmth, but it would be more than he had at the moment.

"We've got to get you to the hospital," Carol said.

Daryl caught her shoulders and pulled her to him the moment they were on the bank. He was shaking his head at her.

"I don't need..." he stammered out.

"You're listening to me!" Carol barked. "You're going to the hospital."

He was already looking better, but Carol knew that he was freezing and being exposed to the cold air wasn't helping matters. They had to get to the truck and they had to get to the hospital—or at least the clinic that she knew that she could find. She'd seen in the night before.

"OK," Daryl said. "OK. But—I just think there's nothing they can do to warm me up that—you couldn't do."

Despite the fact that his speech was broken and vibrating with the shivers of his body, his sense of humor was still intact and Daryl offered Carol the same smile that he had before. The simple smile had the ability to thrill her and infuriate her all at the same time. He leaned toward her to kiss her, barely more than a frosty peck, and she only halfheartedly returned it.

It was her turn to smirk at him when he pulled away.

"We're going to the hospital," she said. "Right now. And—just like you? Those plans? They've been put on ice."

She started on toward the truck and put her arm around him to push him to go with her.

"You're cold," he remarked.

"Listen, Jack Frost, you can just call me the ice queen," she responded back. "Because I won't be the one thawing you out. Not today."


End file.
